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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483820">broken by my open heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletFahrenheit/pseuds/VioletFahrenheit'>VioletFahrenheit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wizarding Shelby [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Peaky Blinders (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Canonical Illness &amp; Death, Freddie is a wizard, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mother Shelby Has Issues, Talking To Dead People, Tommy is having A Hard Time believing in magic, no hogwarts here though (yet), the Shelby siblings are wizards, they're all wizards!, y'know mum shelby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:42:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483820</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletFahrenheit/pseuds/VioletFahrenheit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy works on his relationship with magic, and makes friends; meanwhile, his mother's episodes are getting worse, and no one seems to know what to do. The gypsy old legend, that states that different kinds of magics shouldn't be mixed, doesn't help either.</p><p> </p><p>This is set Pre-Hogwarts, and goes from Tommy being 8 to 11 years old.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Greta Jurossi &amp; Tommy Shelby, Tommy Shelby &amp; Freddie Thorne, Tommy Shelby &amp; Magic, Tommy Shelby &amp; The Shelby Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wizarding Shelby [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Peaky Blinders Prompt Fest - Spring 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nobody Tells you Anything you Want to Know!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PBPromptFestSpring2020">PBPromptFestSpring2020</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've had this idea of a HP AU for a while now, so I took this prompt as the chance to finally start writing it. This is set before Tommy even goes to Hogwarts, and works as the introduction of what, hopefully, will be more fics showing Tommy going through the years of school and getting into all kinds of trouble!</p><p>Also, exclusively for the sake of future plots once they get to Hogwarts, the Shelby siblings are one year old apart from each other in this (being from oldest to youngest: Arthur, Tommy, John and Ada. Finn doesn't exist here -- sorry, Finn!). </p><p>The title is from the song "Colours", by Electric Wave Bureau. Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tommy Shelby hadn't always believed in magic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And why should he had? He'd grown up surrounded by promises of a huge black enchanted castle that was actually a wizarding school, magical wands that could do almost anything you wanted, and flying eagled-like horses allegedly called "hippogriffs"; and it all had sounded completely fascinating, of course. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he'd never really </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything, now, had he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father, for instance, who was supposedly a wizard who had studied magic and possessed </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of magical abilities, had never shown him any magic tricks. Despite all of his children's pleadings, Arthur Snr always refused, stating that he had renounced to doing magic a long time ago. Tommy wasn't at all content with that explanation, and wasn't sure he believed his father; after all, if magic was real, then Tommy couldn't figure out how someone would just give it up. Even less his father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His siblings, on the other hand, were absolutely convinced that magic existed, and that someday they'd be able to do all kinds of seemingly impossible things. Things like flying, or turning vegetables into chocolate, or making oneself invisible. Tommy wasn't gonna lie; he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be able to fly</span>
  <em>
    <span>,</span>
  </em>
  <span> high in the sky, with the wind rustling through his hair and clothes, and the whole world below! He imagined it might feel a bit like riding; freedom, speed, power at the tip of your fingers, and your heartbeat racing inside your chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, make no mistake, Tommy would love for it all to be real; but he just didn't understand how was it was supposed to work. Things like flying, or one thing turning into another just out of nowhere, they made no sense. And no matter how many times or how many people Tommy asked, no one would bloody show him how! At first Tommy had been innocently asking, just curious as always, but when adults started giving him too vague answers, he started to grow suspicious; were they hiding something from him? Why wouldn't they tell him much about the magical world? Was it because they thought he was too young to understand, or was it something else entirely?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy didn’t know, so he had kept asking. Surely there had to be someone he knew who understood the way of the wizarding world, after having spent years studying on a magical school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried with his father first, of course, but he didn’t get any kind of valuable information. Arthur Snr snapped at him after Tommy's third question and just walked away. Tommy had tried asking him again on a few more occasions, but he had gotten nothing in response, apart from annoyed grunts and some slurred insults. In the end, Tommy just sighed and added his father to his long list of things that didn't make sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fine, then. Tommy could get his answers elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next summer, he decided to try the people at the Romani camp instead; the communities themselves were steeped in old Romani magic (that Tommy, sarcastically and with a bit of bitterness, called “gypsy witchcraft”), but also had many wizards and witches who had studied wizarding magic as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy knew that within Romani communities this kind of magic was allegedly a very common trait; still, wizarding magic itself was not very welcomed, as even the less strict Romani families insisted that different kinds of magic should not be mixed under any circumstances. This meant that magic wasn't allowed within the camps, and that the young witches and wizards who went to Hogwarts to learn how to control their magic, and then came back for the summers, were strictly prohibited of doing any kind of magic there. All the other adults at the camps, apparently, had decided to renounce to their magic by the time they were out of Hogwarts, so that they could stay in the Romani camps with their families. The other option for the ones out of Hogwarts was to keep their magic and never set foot on the Romani camps again, but it seemed no one ever went for that one, which Tommy found completely absurd. After all, assuming wizarding magic was real in the first place, it would be loads cooler than the old rituals and superstitions from the Romani communities.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then again, people also had their families in the camps to take into account at the moment of deciding whether or not renounce to their magic, and Tommy supposed that family counted for something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when they went to visit the Lees for the summer, Tommy knew not to expect any displays of magic. Still, he knew most of the adults there had gone to Hogwarts, so Tommy had figured they would just </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> things, and would be more willing to explain than his father had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No such luck. At first they did have good predisposition, but Tommy quickly realised that these people either knew nothing, or didn’t want to feed too much into a lie. </span>
</p><p><span>Tommy kept asking, though, and over the course of that summer some of his distant relatives tried explaining the basic functioning of the magical world, but had quickly given up at Tommy's persisting and infinite inquiries. Once, for example, he'd learnt that the way to make yourself invisible was, supposedly, by covering yourself with an invisible cloak; no one had ever seen one, though. And when Tommy had asked exactly how</span> <span>could a </span><em><span>cloak</span></em><span> make you turn invisible, people would say </span><em><span>it just did,</span></em><span> or answer something along the lines of: </span></p><p>
  <span>“Its enchanted,” Tommy would frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>enchanted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They would shrug, “Just enchanted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy could tell that adults weren't very invested in trying to convince an eight year old that magic was real if the boy in question was "hell-bent on not believing", as they'd say. Now, Tommy knew he was stubborn, but he wasn't being stubborn about this, no; he was just being curious, and he just wanted a reason, a good one, to ease his suspicions of everything being just a big feeble lie. Proof, or a thorough explanation, maybe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But adults didn't care that much anyway, and so Tommy was left dissatisfied and frustrated. They also had kept reminding him that, either way, magic as a whole wasn't allowed in the Romani camps, and that they had renounced to their own magic long ago. None of those reminders were particularly useful though, as Tommy did already know that, thank you very much. He'd just been about to give up when Edmund Lee, an old mate of his father’s, had chipped in on the conversation loudly:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But why are you looking at us for answers, boy? We don’t do magic anymore.” he had laughed sharply, looking amused at Tommy. “Just ask your old man. He’s still got his.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy had blinked slowly and thanked the man, and then walked away quietly, as this new revelation sank in; so his father had lied. Tommy wasn’t particularly surprised by that, but the question was </span>
  <em>
    <span>why.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Why would his father lie, why would he choose to live without magic even if he still had it, and why had he never said anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy felt rather proud of his instincts, as he himself had always wondered why the hell had his father renounced to his magic. All that time, he knew there had been something off about it; he just hadn’t know what. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he was younger, Arthur Snr had lived part of his life in the camps and the other in Small Heath, where Tommy's own grandad had started the betting business. Since Tommy's mum had ran away from her family and come live in Small Heath with him, they hadn't gone back to the Strong clan, though they continued visiting some of the other Romani families, like the Boswells or the Lees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy just didn't get it; his father had had the perfect opportunity to keep his magic, as after studying in Hogwarts he could just have stayed in Small Heath and make use of his magic as he pleased. And he'd given that up for, what, summers on the road with the Lees? The chance to see Aunt Polly and his stepmother in the Boswell clan every once in a while? No, his father wasn't like that. He would have never given up something like magic so easily, and of that, Tommy was sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as much as Tommy wanted to find out what on earth was going on, he knew he couldn’t just confront Arthur Snr with the truth, nor ask him about it. Tommy was certain his father would not answer, but he 
though he might get really angry about it. Plus, Edmund Lee could have just been talking shit, as he often tended to do, and telling his father about it would maybe only work to get Tommy into trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure what would happen, that was the truth. And Tommy didn’t want to risk it, so he filed this piece of information neatly and saved it for the future, deciding not to act on it. Yet.</span>
</p><p>• • •</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In his house once again, Tommy decided to try on his last option for information on magic: his mother. She wasn't a witch, but Tommy’s mum had lived her life, before running away with Arthur Snr, in the Romani camps, surrounded by people who were magical. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Tommy asked her about it, and she had some fun anecdotes to tell about old friends of hers, but unfortunately his mum lacked the detail and the knowledge that Tommy was looking for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did tell him again a bit about the "gypsy witchcraft", though, which Tommy didn’t mind, as he liked those stories a lot; Tommy knew his mother had some kind of weird Romani abilities, like predicting the future, or maybe talking to ghosts, or reading your tea leaves </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> well, at least that was what Tommy had imagined, when his mum told him that if she hadn't run away from her ancestral Romani family to get married with Arthur Snr, she would have ended up being one of those creepy old ladies from the gypsy camps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother went on telling him about how she had run away from her family. Tommy had always liked to listen to that story, being also the story of how his parents had gotten together; it sounded exciting, a bit romantic, and very dramatic. Apparently, his mum had been born with some rare, incredible Romani powers, that needed to be "carefully nurtured and tamed". This basically meant she wasn't allowed to get married nor have any kids, and that she would just have to grow old and become a wrinkled lady with foggy eyes who performed rituals and told the future. Tommy's mum would explain how she had never wanted that life for her, but that she had never done anything about it until she had met Arthur Snr. They had fallen deeply in love with each other, and then run away together and settled in Small Heath ("why couldn't you just have gone to London, mum?!", Tommy would ask every time, and his mum would laugh, every time, "or just </span>
  <em>
    <span>anywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span> but Birmingham!"). There, they had married and set on to make a family together and live happily ever after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he was being honest, Tommy could never really picture his parents as the couple from that story. Something must have gone wrong somewhere along the way, for the madly in love couple to end up like they had. As far as Tommy could remember, his parents had never seemed to be very head over heels for each other, they’d always been just… distant. Tommy wondered if marriage did that to people, or if it was just his parents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the story was pretty good and Tommy believed every word of it, weird gypsy powers included. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now he thought about it, it was a bit strange, that. Tommy was sure gypsy witchcraft existed, and he had never wondered otherwise. But maybe, Tommy told himself, it was because it just wasn't the same as magic tricks or being able to fly, which didn't make any sense, no; ghosts and destiny and predictions somehow felt more plausible, more real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it could be because Tommy had grown up surrounded by all those Romani rituals and superstitions, and he'd even witnessed prophecies coming true. So by this point, he didn't really feel the need to doubt, after summers and summers of visiting the Romani camps. It just wasn't hard to believe in something when he had everything at plain sight to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it wasn't the same with magic. The other kind of magic, he meant; Tommy had never ever seen any sign or proof of its existence, and everything he'd been told about it seemed to have loads of loose ends that nobody knew how to explain. It almost felt like magic was hiding away from Tommy, making it impossible for him to catch sight of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy guessed that was why he had always questioned wizarding magic; it was hard to believe in it if he never saw anything, if magic always slipped away. Tommy had hoped that if he just asked people to show him magic or prove its existence to him, they would; but this had never happened, and all that Tommy had managed to do was annoy everyone, himself included, with his doubts and suspicion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes Tommy wondered if it really was worth putting all that effort into finding out the truth, just to end up more and more disappointed every time. Maybe it wasn't. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was someone, though, who in contrast to everyone else around him (who didn’t like to deal with Tommy and his questionings of magic), had always been willing to try and convince Tommy that magic was real; and that someone was Arthur, Tommy’s older brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, it looked as if his big brother was a strong believer of magic, even though he had nothing more than silly empty promises of its existence. Still, Arthur seemed very sure of what he was promising, which was odd; confidence had always been a lacking feature on Arthur, so Tommy had been more than a bit surprised when his brother had claimed his belief on magic so strongly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then again, Arthur had always liked to please their father, who has supposedly been a wizard, so maybe that was just it. Because Arthur, unlike Tommy </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span> who would annoy his father to no end in search of some founded arguments </span>
  <span>—</span>
  <span>, was way more likely to give in to whatever Arthur Snr said, accept it with open arms, and just trail behind him blindly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As such, he'd also never miss a chance to tell them all again how father had once done a magic trick for him, which sounded as if it was the highlight of Arthur’s life, for the way he told it. He’d tell how their father had supposedly made a spoon with soup float into Arthur's mouth, after he had refused to eat it. John and Ada would stare in awe at Arthur who, beaming with pride, would tell the story over and over again. Tommy, though, was not buying it, and one time he decided to confront Arthur about it, which developed into quite the argument.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said I was there! How come you remember and I don't, then, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were too little, Tommy,” Arthur had answered, dismissively. Tommy crossed his arms and stared at his brother intently, brow furrowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was four! And you were only a year older than me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I dunno, Tom. Maybe you forgot” Arthur shrugged; Tommy was sick of people </span>
  <em>
    <span>shrugging </span>
  </em>
  <span>at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Tommy insisted, “The reason I don't remember is because you’re inventing it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few seconds of silence went by, while his siblings seemed to take this in. In the floor by the couch, John was looking very concerned indeed, as deep in thought as a seven-year-old could possibly be, while little Ada seemed on the verge of tears. Arthur, though, flashed them a weirdly cheerful smile each, and continued, earnest:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm telling you, Tom, I’m not lying! I even remember you giggled and clapped your little baby hands together,” Arthur made a grab for Tommy's wrists</span>
  <em>
    <span>,</span>
  </em>
  <span> sniggering,</span>
  <em>
    <span> “</span>
  </em>
  <span>and kept babbling about magical soup spoons for weeks!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur was now on top of him, laughing, and tickling his brother mercilessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi – geroff!”, Tommy gasped between breathless laughs, while John and Ada giggled from the floor and cheered their oldest brother on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some nights, Tommy lay awake at night thinking about Arthur's anecdote; his mother had confirmed it, but Tommy had the feeling that they were all just having him on, waiting to see if he'd fall for the prank and believe that magic did exist, only to then point at him and laugh. Besides, Tommy was sure he would remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>something,</span>
  </em>
  <span> if that had really happened; maybe not remember, but just </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. Surely Tommy hadn't just woken up one day and started questioning if magic was real or not after having witnessed an </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual </span>
  </em>
  <span>magic trick. No, that just didn't make sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy couldn't remember when exactly he had started doubting magic, because it felt like he had always had. He had started asking questions not that long ago, but the doubt had always been there. Now, if he had seen the magic trick, even if he wouldn't be able to remember it, then surely some </span>
  <em>
    <span>notion</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it would have stuck with him; some acknowledgement that magic was real, some kind of </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainty.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It would have just been another fact about the world that one doesn't consciously learn, but rather just absorbs, and then it sticks with you forever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother, for instance, had once told him about the time he'd put his hand flat on the oven and burned himself quite gravely. Tommy couldn't remember the incident, but his mum said that since then, Tommy became extremely careful around the oven and never touched it again. To this day, Tommy knew to be careful around hot things, including the oven. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This way, Tommy was pretty sure this concept applied to magic as well; if he would had seen it, he'd have believed it, and would believe it to this day. But he didn't believe it, so therefore he hadn't seen it, so therefore Arthur was lying and his mother was in on the joke, as were all the bloody adults in his life!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His father was another loose end to that way of thinking, though. Arthur Snr definitely wasn't the kind of man to keep up a pretense of a whole fantasy of reality just to feed into his children's imagination; even less when that also fed directly into Tommy's "fucking interrogations". He would have revealed the horrid truth that magic wasn't real by now, if that had actually been the truth, seeing as that would have ceased Tommy's questions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, what a bloody mess. That left Tommy thinking that at least some part of it all might be real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy just didn’t know what else to think, and he refused to keep asking his father. After all, Arthur Snr had always been easily irritated by Tommy's many questions (magically inclined or not), and once those had earned the boy a few slaps around the back of the head, Tommy learnt to keep his mouth shut around his father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, it wasn't as if Arthur Snr had ever talked much about the hypothetical magical world either way; Tommy could tell he had some sort of resentment against it, frustration maybe, or even some kind of </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate. </span>
  </em>
  <span>When John once asked him why did he hate magic so much, Arthur Snr had grown wary and tense, and Tommy had been sure he'd been about to slap his little brother. However, Arthur Snr took a deep breath and, instead, he reminded his kids, through gritted teeth, that he didn't do magic anymore, and so therefore he had no reason to talk about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that, not even magic-enthusiastic Arthur Jr dared to bring up the topic of magic around their dad again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did have a wand, though, their father; he kept it hidden, but Tommy had stolen it a few times and stared at it endlessly, not daring to wave it around too much. It didn't really look like what Tommy imagined as an ordinary magic wand; it was more like a very solid and rather small branch, bits and pieces of wood sticking out and everything. He'd even seen his father use it, once. Or try to, at least; he'd been pointing it at his empty bottle of whiskey, murmuring low under his breath, and doing wonky movements with his wrist. Tommy almost expected to see the bottle fill with whiskey again, or tip to the floor, or shatter in a million pieces of dark glass, or even melt into a puddle of liquid glass! – but none of that happened. The bottle just stood there, solid and unchanging. His father gave up after a few minutes with a frustrated sigh, and went to grab another bottle from the attic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back on that occurrence, Tommy wondered if maybe, just maybe, his father hadn't given up on magic, but magic had given up on him. Would that even be possible, assuming that magic was possible in the first place? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy didn't know, and he didn't like not knowing. This way, it was just easier to operate on the belief that magic wasn't even possible at all.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So who would have thought my first fic on ao3 would be an AU? Thooough Peaky Blinders and Harry Potter are my undying passions, so I guess it makes sense. I'd love to hear any thoughts you may have on this :)</p><p>Note: This is my first time publishing something in English as well (which is not my first language), and I also don't have a beta, so feel free to tell me if you've found any major mistakes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I Need an Answer but I'm Always One Step Behind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After some more months of investigation leading nowhere, Tommy concluded that, regardless of magic being real or not, adults must have a silent agreement between them: make children believe in magic, but give no proof of it. </p><p>Tommy felt a bit like when he had been made to believe in Santa Claus; all adults had always been so very keen on reminding children that the man of red stockings <em> was </em> real, but without any kind of founded reasons. As little kids, of course, they had all believed it, and Tommy could still remember how awful it had felt, the disappointment and the shame he had felt when he found out the truth. This had happened some years ago, when some older boys were boasting about the presents their parents had gotten them for Christmas when, suddenly, a boy only a little younger than Tommy himself had asked, utterly confused look on his face, why their parents gave them presents for Christmas. "That is Santa's job!", the kid had said. The older boys had laughed at him, and called the little boy a fool for believing in such silly things. Tommy had felt ashamed for having believed in such a stupid tale himself, but he kept quiet and looked down, throat closing up.</p><p>At least he hadn’t admitted it out loud.</p><p>But now, at the vast age of eight years and nine months old, Tommy knew that he wasn’t a little kid anymore, and he sure as hell was never silly. He knew that, deep down, he wanted to believe; if there was even a tiny little chance that magic existed, Tommy wanted to grip it and never let it go. After all, how cool would it be to live with magic?</p><p>So yeah, he’d believe in magic… only a little. And from a safe distance. He’d be careful. He didn’t want to be too disappointed if it turned out all those wizarding promises were fake — so he let himself believe, but still be… skeptical. Yeah, skeptical.</p><p> </p><p>So, by the time ordinary boring school started again, Tommy had decided to turn a blind eye to anything magic-related; he would stop asking, he would stop arguing, he would stop thinking about it, he would just stop paying attention to it. He decided that magic might not be real, but that there wasn't any point in trying to find proof declaring so, nor to annoy people with his questioning of their tales. He didn't need to prove anything to anyone; he could believe what he wanted. In silence.</p><p>Yeah, he could do that. In fact, Tommy felt very mature about the whole thing; after all, if other kids decided they wanted to go on fully believing in magic just because adults told them to, that was their problem. It wasn't Tommy's job to make them see reason.</p><p> </p><p>Some months passed and Tommy kept trying and ignoring anything slightly magical; and, for these few months, it actually worked. Tommy was getting into less trouble with his dad by not asking things (or by barely interacting with him, in fact), he was getting better grades as he actually paid attention to his classes instead of daydreaming about the magical world, and he started helping Uncle Charlie and Curly with the horses every time he could, to keep himself from thinking too much about anything else. </p><p>Tommy was used to living a life where nothing much happened, apart from the occasional hiding from the police or the gangs wars that were just part of Small Heath. He also didn’t have any good friends, as all kids in his school were pretty boring and unnecessarily mean, so Tommy spent much of his time with his siblings, or in the stables at Uncle Charlie’s yard. But Tommy had never felt lonely, no; he had always entertained himself with his curiosity and imagination, and he would spend hours wondering the reasons behind of things, or creating fantastic worlds in his head. </p><p>But after deciding to drop his belief and questioning of magic, as well as his curiosity about it, Tommy found himself dangerously close to getting bored; no matter how many things he did, Tommy had nothing to think about or ponder on, and it seemed that he had grown really fond of thinking, somehow. He even had to keep reminding himself that he wasn’t currently really believing in magic, so he shouldn’t spend all his time thinking about something that wasn’t even completely real. However, this left him empty, lacking, with nothing to think about, and essentially bored.</p><p>So on his ninth birthday, Tommy, feeling a little silly, made a wish on his birthday candle for the first time. He had always taken pride on the fact he didn’t do stupid things like make wishes and believe they’d come true, but Tommy figured there wouldn’t be any harm in trying, just this once. No one had to know, anyway. He’d just keep it to himself.</p><p>So Tommy blew the candle with his eyes closed and prayed to some unknown divinity he didn’t even believe in to please, <em> please, </em> bring something new into his life, to keep him busy. Anything would be fine, he told the unknown divinity; he just needed something to distract him from the hypothetical magical world and take the edge off his boredom.</p><p> </p><p>Now, looking back, Tommy realised that this poorly specific prayer hadn’t been a great idea. In reality, all that Tommy had wanted was a friend, even if he didn’t know it. And, eventually, he had gotten one; Tommy would always wonder if Freddie had come into his life as some kind of response to his birthday wish or if it had just happened. Tommy would have been inclined to believe it had just happened, if it wasn’t for the fact that even before Freddie appeared into his life, and just in the scope of a few weeks later than his birthday, some other new things started happening all around in Tommy’s life; though not all of them good.</p><p> </p><p>Firstly, his mother started getting worse, and got as close as to having two of her episodes in only one month. Tommy had never known what these “episodes” were about, and of course no one had ever wanted to tell him either, but Tommy had never worried much, as they seemed to last very little and after a good night's sleep or two, his mother had always been back to normal again. </p><p>But now things had changed and, after some days spent resting and recovering her energy, Tommy’s mum hadn’t gone back to her normal self. Instead, she had busied herself with house chores and avoided interacting with everyone. In fact, the few times Tommy had tried to talk to her, she had been oddly distant, eyes unfocused and her whole body tense. One time, Tommy had tried to take her hand to catch her attention, but she had only flinched aggressively and retrieved her hand as if she had been touching fire. It took her a few seconds of looking scared and some blinking to fully recognise Tommy, who felt like his insides were being carved out as he watched his mother nervously fuss with her skirt while she avoided making eye contact with him.</p><p>At this whole situation, Tommy was upset, worried, and bitterly resigned; he sure as hell wasn’t bored now, as he spent every moment he had worrying over his mother. This was not what he had meant when he had wished for boredom to go away, Tommy would think furiously at his birthday wish. Right now, all that he wanted was his mother to be well again, boredom be damned. His mum, though, assured them all she was perfectly fine (whenever she was lucid enough), and tried not to worry her children too much, but even young oblivious John and little Ada could tell that something was wrong.</p><p>To make matters worse, their father was now more often than not out on nights, and would come back to the house by late noon, pissed out of his head, only to lock himself into his office (to pass out, probably). Whenever he was actually sober, Arthur Snr would spend the day on the betting shop, presumably working, or in the boxing ring, dragging a cheerful Arthur along with him. The ring was the most frequent one, though. As such, not much money was coming in from the betting shop, and the meals started to look sparser and smaller by the day.</p><p> </p><p>Out of all of this, Tommy concluded that his parents were avoiding each other. After thinking about it for a bit, Tommy felt a bit surprised at the fact that he wasn't really upset by this realization. In fact, Tommy supposed it was better this way; the last thing their mother needed was to be fighting with their dad at every other second, as they’d been doing whenever they had a moment alone for the last few weeks. Tommy didn’t really know what they argued about, but it never seemed to end well, as the argument would often end with Arthur Snr walking away and slamming the door harshly behind him, and Tommy’s mum looking distressed and furious. Tommy had tried comforting her a few times, like he always used to do before, but now his mother didn’t want anyone, not even him. Tommy had insisted, though, not wanting his mum to be alone, but she only gave him a sad pitying smile, stroked his cheek lightly, and whispered:</p><p>“Oh, my dear boy. You’ll always be there for me, won’t you?”</p><p>And Tommy had tried to nod, he had tried to tell her; <em> yes mum, I’m here whenever you need me, </em> but his breath caught in his throat and his body did not respond, as Tommy stared into her eyes, the same as his; huge and sad clear eyes that now just seemed tired and unsettlingly dark. </p><p>“But not this time, Thomas. I need to be alone for this,” she had smiled that smile again, the sad pitying one, before standing up and walking away, leaving Tommy behind, who very much felt like a little boy who knew nothing of the ways of the world. </p><p> </p><p>• • •</p><p> </p><p>A few weeks later, Tommy was still felt pretty concerned by his mother’s behaviour, but he was doing his best to ignore it. Not give it too much importance, as Uncle Charlie had advised. He had been visiting a lot lately, Uncle Charlie; he’d been taking care of his sister after her episodes and making sure she was alright after the arguments with Arthur Snr. Charlie Strong was a good man, and Tommy loved spending time with the horses on his yard, but unfortunately his uncle was also very reserved and obstinate, and would not tell Tommy what the hell was going on with his mother, despite all of the boy’s prodding and pleadings. Tommy felt betrayed; Uncle Charlie had never treated him like a little kid before, and he had always trusted him with difficult tasks at the yard, like refilling the horses’ water troughs or lifting heavy metal scraps. Now, Tommy felt hot with indignation at the fact that Uncle Charlie didn't seem to trust him anymore.  Tommy didn’t get why adults were so keen on leaving him out of everything; he was clever, he wanted to help, and most of all, he had a right to know what was wrong with his mum! </p><p>Uncle Charlie, though, was almost as stubborn as Tommy himself, and would not let a word slip. Tommy suspected that the whole situation had something to do with his mum’s gypsy powers, though; Tommy had heard his uncle try to convince his mother to seek help within the Strong’s clan, but she had refused. Plus, the matter was treated with way too much secretiveness, and Uncle Charlie kept insisting a doctor would do her no good. Though he often insisted doctors did no good, mind you; but this time Tommy’s mum agreed with him, which was the strange thing.</p><p> </p><p>More situations kept coming up, though, as just a few weeks into March they received news from one of the Romani camps, saying that Tommy's grandfather on his dad's side had passed away. </p><p>As children, of course, they weren't given any kind of information about how this had happened, despite all of Tommy's complaints about having a right to know, which were, of course, vastly ignored. Consequently, Tommy never really found out what had happened to his grandfather, though he always suspected it might have had something to do with his grandad's problems with the law; after all, whenever the man wasn't doing something illegal, he was taking his family out to live in the woods to escape the police. </p><p>Arthur Snr didn't react much to this news, except for locking himself into his office with a few bottles of whiskey for a few hours, which wasn’t much of an unusual behaviour anyway. Not many days after, he left for the funeral, to which Tommy and his siblings were not allowed to attend. Once again, Tommy was annoyed for being excluded, just for being a kid; he would have quite liked to go to a funeral. He had never been to one before, though he knew Romani funerals were different, as they included the burning of the body in a wagon and thus, well, lots of things on fire. Tommy felt a bit weird for not being sad about his grandad's death, but as no one around him seemed particularly grim, he figured it was alright. Maybe death just takes some time to sink in, as his mother had once said.</p><p>About a week later, Arthur Snr was back from the camp, and he brought some very interesting news with him; Aunt Polly, who was on her fifth year at Hogwarts (the supposed school of witchcraft and wizardry), would be coming to live with them starting the summer. Arthur Snr explained that Polly's mother, Princess Birdy Boswell, had died a couple years ago, and as now their father was dead too she had nowhere else to go during the summer break from school.</p><p>Arthur Snr kept talking, but Tommy wasn't listening to his father's explanation anymore, as he could barely contain his excitement; finally something good and interesting happened to him! Tommy was buzzing with enthusiasm at the prospect of having an actual witch on their house. He had known Aunt Polly since forever, but he had hardly seen her since she had started going away for the school terms. Now, she would be coming every summer to stay with them, and Tommy would finally be able to see some real magic! </p><p>John, though, who'd just been told he'd have to go back to sharing a room with his little sister, was not nearly as pleased as Tommy, and went on complaining and sulking for days on end. At first Ada wasn't very happy with this arrangement either, but in the end it seemed she was too excited about having someone new to play with to care much about room arrangements. </p><p>After those splendid news, Tommy just quit trying to keep ignoring magic. He didn't start asking questions again, but he let his mind run free where magic was concerned. He still maintained, though, that he would not dwell too much on his mum’s issues; after all, he wasn’t even sure they were gypsy witchcraft-y issues. And it wasn't as if there was much he could do anyway, right? His mother had pushed him away, and Uncle Charlie didn't want to tell him what was happening, so fine; they’d have it their way. Tommy would stay out of it, and instead, he’d go into magic.</p><p>As Tommy let himself feel hope and excitement, he realized that he couldn't wait for the school year to be over; he was more anxious for the summer than he'd ever been before, and he started to fantasize about all the kinds of fantastic things he would learn. </p><p>Surely, as someone studying at Hogwarts in the current time, Aunt Pol would be able to tell him all about magic wands, invisibility cloaks, and flying horses. Oh, and the things she could show him! She wasn't in the Romani camps anymore, and she hadn't had to choose whether to give up on magic or not, yet, so this time there would be nothing stopping Polly from showing him some magic tricks. Tommy was over the moon with anticipation; he could hardly believe his luck. Finally, finally, finally!</p><p> </p><p>But little did Tommy know that loads of magical things would be happening even before that summer; better things that he could have imagined, as he’d fully discover magic, friendship, and hope, all in one place.</p><p>And that "place", could be summarized in one statement: he met Freddie Thorne. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Title of the chapter from the song "Tear Up This Town", by Keane. Hope you enjoyed! :)</p>
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